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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28743786">More Arthur/Eames Drabbles</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/slashmania/pseuds/slashmania'>slashmania</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Drabbles [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Inception (2010)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M, another Arthur/Eames Drabble collection!, because everything continues to suck!, but at least Arthur and Eames are still the best and most loving</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 07:20:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>60</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,000</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28743786</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/slashmania/pseuds/slashmania</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything still sort of sucks, but at least Arthur and Eames have each other.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Arthur/Eames (Inception)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Drabbles [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2110242</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>37</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. New Art Medium</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Eames was on the floor, staring up at the ceiling and trying to come up with another thing to keep himself occupied.</p><p>“Running out of ideas?” Arthur asked as he got on the floor and laid near to Eames.</p><p>Eames looked to his left and asked, “What would you think if I made something out of the PASIV tubing we aren’t using since the pandemic put a freeze on dream heists?”</p><p>“IV lines in or as art?”</p><p>“It’s probably not the newest art medium, but I’m tired of painting and drawing.”</p><p>Arthur smiled at Eames. “I think you’ll do great.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Courage</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Are you sure this is going to work?”</p><p>“I’ve done this before,” Arthur assured Eames, who wasn’t phobic exactly, but extremely disgusted by bugs and would rather not face it without Arthur. Because of his expertise, of course!</p><p>Arthur aimed the squirt bottle filled with soapy water at the cockroach and then fired!</p><p>After several shots of soapy water, the cockroach finally stopped moving, unable to breathe. And then Eames relaxed.</p><p>“You are still a scary dream criminal,” Arthur reassured Eames as he swept up the incapacitated bug.</p><p>“Exactly...now please get rid of it before it starts breathing again.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Advertisement</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The email had an odd subject line. <em>Wanted: dreamshare criminals to complete job for bitter businessman.</em></p><p>Eames looked at Arthur. “Is this...?”</p><p>Arthur sighed and continued to read as he sat in front of his laptop. “If you want this choice position, have a serious disposition.”</p><p>“My god,” Eames said holding back laughter. “It really does rhyme!”</p><p>“Did you think I was lying when I said this could happen?”</p><p>“No, darling!” Eames quickly pressed a kiss against Arthur’s brow. “This is so brilliant! Can you please read more?”</p><p>Arthur did continue, but this time with a smile on his face.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Yeah, I went the <i>Practically Perfect</i> route...Not sorry at all!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Testament</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I know I shouldn’t be one to talk...”</p><p><em>Then don’t,</em> Arthur thought harshly while remaining silent on the phone.</p><p>“For all we know, he may be gone,” Cobb said.</p><p>Eames hadn’t called. He hadn’t written. That last job went wrong and Arthur had expected to hear something. Anything. All he got were rumors and Cobb’s pity.</p><p>The call ended. Arthur’s attention was suddenly drawn away from his landline and to the cell phone on his desk.</p><p>There was a new text message from a number he didn’t recognize.</p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>Still alive, darling. &lt;3</p>
</blockquote><p><em>I knew I was right</em>, Arthur texted back.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Rainbow</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm sorry this is late. I slept for a very long time today and might be awake all night as a result.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Eames seemed awfully chipper when he came into the warehouse that morning. “I saw a rainbow on my way here and it made me think of you, Arthur.”</p><p>Arthur, who wasn’t especially colorful or tended to appear after the rain, raised an eyebrow upon hearing that. “Did it?”</p><p>Eames presented Arthur with a cup of coffee he’d purchased. “I looked up at it and thought, <em>I bet even Arthur couldn’t frown at something as pleasant as a rainbow.</em>”</p><p>Arthur considered this and agreed. “They can be nice.”</p><p>The next time Arthur saw a rainbow, he thought of Eames, then smiled.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Time</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“We don’t have time for this,” Arthur was saying as he attempted to brush past Eames in the dreamscape. He was busy doing the math in his head, so he didn’t immediately do anything when Eames tugged on his elbow so they were side by side.</p><p>“You know you have time for this. One kiss, just a little one, for luck.”</p><p>Then Eames gave Arthur a kiss. When it was over and Eames had let Arthur go to do his own stuff. Arthur paused and watched Eames walk away. Then Arthur cursed softly.</p><p>Eames had made him lose count again!</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Sick</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Eames was swaying. “Am I boring you?”</p><p>“...no?” One of the mark’s men hesitantly answered.</p><p>“I was telling you my story.” Eames stopped to fish a handkerchief from his pocket. He had to put away his gun so he could blow his nose! Eames began searching another pocket for a cough drop. “It’s the one where I’m a lovely lady meant to distract you all.”</p><p>Then Arthur arrived. “You’re too sick for this.”</p><p>After Arthur dealt with all the men, he checked on Eames.</p><p>“You have to rest, Eames.”</p><p>“Even if I’m still a lovely lady, Arthur?” Eames deliriously asked.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chaos</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The <i>Secret Magic Princess Gunfighter</i> drabbles began in the first Arthur/Eames Drabbles collection. (Chapter 88 and Chapter 113) and could be considered part of any of the drabbles where Arthur is a gallant idiot and becomes the best uncle.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was another game of Secret Magic Princess Gunfighter!</p><p>Arthur was armed with a neon orange dart gun and was behind the couch.</p><p>“Come out, Uncle Arthur!” Phillipa called, attempting to be serious but already giggling too much.</p><p>“You should be careful,” Eames warned her, also playing the role of Secret Magic Princess Gunfighter (on his mother’s side, of course). “He’s got those magic disrupting darts! And his pet dinosaur!”</p><p>James, as the pet dinosaur, started roaring and rushed towards Eames and Phillipa while Arthur covered him!</p><p>Nerf bullets and darts flew but the chaos of battle ended in laughter.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Sharp</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Arthur heard the shattering noise even with his headphones on. He pulled them off and looked away from his laptop to find Eames crouched in the middle of the warehouse with fresh cuts on his fingers and broken beakers at his feet. Arthur stood up immediately and went to help.</p><p>-</p><p>“Accidents happen, but please don’t get hurt again, Eames,” Arthur said as he helped disinfect and bandage the cuts.</p><p>“Accidentally breaking a glass is a sign of good luck,” Eames responded, as if it was a silver lining for them. “That was a lot of glass, darling. Lots of luck!”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Phoenix</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The undead projections shambled forwards, their rotting arms reaching outwards as they came closer!</p><p>“Ugh,” Eames said over the sound of gunfire. “The smell is making me sick!”</p><p>Arthur was busy fishing something from his bag.</p><p>Eames noticed but kept firing on the zombies. “Do you have a flamethrower, darling?”</p><p>“No, I’ve got something much better!” Arthur said brightly as he pulled a handful of red down feathers from his bag.  Arthur then tossed the feathers at the monsters and each undead <em>disappeared</em> once the feathers touched them!</p><p>“What—?” Eames faltered.</p><p>“Don’t knock <em>Final Fantasy</em>, Eames. It has saved us!”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I like <i>Final Fantasy </i>.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Zodiac</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Eames had the newspaper open on his desk.</p><p>“I don’t want to hear my horoscope,” Arthur immediately said as he passed him by to get to his own place in the warehouse. “I just want to work.”</p><p>Eames began reading it anyway. “Please have some fun today! Eames just wants you to take a break from your hard work and relax, just like you deserve. Take his hint and play hooky with him!”</p><p>“You can’t be serious,” Arthur said, failing to hide his smile. “It doesn’t say that!”</p><p>“It implied it. So come on, darling! Let’s get out of here!”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Underwater</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They jumped over the railing of the cruise ship! This dream was going nuts, and if they wanted to be killed and drop into Limbo they could have stayed on the deck and been ripped to shreds by the crew.</p><p>“This is a really bad idea!” Arthur said as they fell into the water.</p><p>“Stay positive!” Eames answered, squeezing Arthur’s hand.</p><p>They hit the water with a big splash, going under and swimming as far away from the ship as possible. Arthur manifested an oxygen tank to share with Eames while they waited.</p><p>Arthur tried not to think of sharks...</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Buttons</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Hey!”</p><p>Cobb turned around once he heard Eames’s voice. “What is it, Eames?”</p><p>Eames approached Cobb, narrowing his eyes as he said, “You better quit bothering Arthur! If you don’t, I’ll have to punch you in that smugly attractive face!”</p><p>Not knowing how to deal with the compliment wrapped in the threat of violence to his admittedly smug attractive face, Cobb stammered a reply. “W-what?”</p><p>Eames got closer to Cobb, making Cobb take a step back and raise his hands!</p><p>“Stop pushing Arthur’s buttons. That’s <em>my</em> job, not yours!”</p><p>Cobb nodded quickly, and sighed in relief once Eames was gone.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Sacrifice</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You really don’t have to, Eames,” Arthur protested.</p><p>Eames was determined. He was carefully slicing his own dessert in half.</p><p>“The poor waiter said that they’d just run out of this cake, so I want to share mine with you.”</p><p>“My dessert took a sudden express trip off the table when that tipsy couple passed us. I don’t really mind that they can’t give me more of the same. They’ll just replace it with something else!”</p><p>“It’s not a sacrifice,” Eames said before giving Arthur some of the cake. “Remember, it’s chocolate, darling!”</p><p>Arthur finally just smiled and accepted it.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Foreign</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Here, this one was taken when we went on a road trip.”</p><p>Arthur was looking at the picture, saw his own smiling face next to this man’s, this guy who said his name was Eames...but for the life of him Arthur couldn’t remember him. It was all so strange!</p><p>Perhaps noticing Arthur’s distress, Eames tried to reassure him. “This is just a bad side effect from the Somnacin, Arthur. You’ll feel better soon, I promise.”</p><p>Arthur nodded hesitantly, but still inched closer to Eames. Eames showed Arthur another picture on his phone.</p><p>“We had such a great time, darling...”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Seeking Solace</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry, pandemic stuff is depressing me too. Let's all have some love!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I can’t wait till this lockdown is over and I can spend five blissful minutes by myself” was what Arthur joked about during lockdown.</p><p><em>I’m glad you’re here because this freaks me out,</em> was what Arthur thought to himself, but didn’t say.</p><p>Arthur was aware of his worry which got worse as the days passed, and he also knew that keeping busy and distracting himself was for the best. He even stopped watching the news because it depressed him so much.</p><p>If he didn’t have Eames, he couldn’t lean against him on the couch and take solace in his presence.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Sport</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“How long are you going to do that for?” Ariadne asked from her spot in the warehouse.</p><p>Arthur was carefully balancing on the back legs of his chair like he was some unruly teenager instead of a respected criminal dreamsharer.</p><p>“For however long I can,” Arthur answered, still concentrating on balancing. “I’ve already finished all <em>my</em> work. That leaves me time to work on a new record.”</p><p>Then Eames approached, but instead of kicking the back of the chair, he started to cheer!</p><p>Eames showed Arthur the stopwatch! “You’re really close to breaking your last record, pet! Keep on going!”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Pain</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Please enjoy a drabble based in <i>I Specialize In Happy Endings (Not Euphemistically)</i> my Inception/Stranger Than Fiction fics where Eames was a famous author who was writing Arthur's story, and Arthur was a main character and not happy about it because he doesn't want an adventure.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Arthur, the best point man, would heal,” Eames spoke aloud as he wrote the words down on the pages of the slightly bloodstained Moleskine he’d taken from Arthur’s bag. “His gunshot wound, messy as it looked, would heal perfectly and without incident.”</p><p>Arthur attempted to look up at Eames, but he’d gotten the good drugs for the pain. It was hard to focus on the man who used to write his life but now watched his six as they did dreamshare crime, but Arthur tried anyway.</p><p>Arthur tried to speak but only managed to mumble, “Eames, I’m gonna sleep now.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Sweet</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Those had to be the biggest gumdrops Arthur had ever seen in his life, and they were all falling from the sky, so he was fairly sure he was dreaming.</p><p>He checked his totem anyways, even as Eames approached and said, “Dear god, this dreamer is trying to give us cavities, aren’t they?”</p><p>“We don’t have to eat the candy falling from the sky, Eames,” Arthur answered. “Let’s just go. We’re only here to help the client try and commit to their New Year’s resolution...”</p><p>They hopped on the nearby licorice raft and began traveling down a pink lemonade river.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Memory</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This follows Chapter 15. Foreign.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Eames was still seated next to Arthur, patiently waiting at Arthur’s side. “It’ll come to you.”</p><p>Arthur wasn’t sure. He kept scrolling through the pictures of this road trip he’d taken with this man. He paused on one of just Eames sitting in the driver’s seat of a car, maybe their car? He spotted a love bite on Eames’s neck, and something about the picture unearthed a memory.</p><p>“Now, I remember! I gave you that,” Arthur said. “There’s a second one somewhere else...it was on your thigh...yes, I remember it!”</p><p>“We were so late leaving, darling,” Eames smiled.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Bones</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I’m the big spoon now, darling.”</p><p>Arthur snorted but didn’t pull away while they were in bed. He tugged the blankets closer to keep them warm this lazy morning.</p><p>“I like all sorts of things about you,” Eames was prattling, making Arthur smile. “But I swear one of my favorite things has to be your bones.”</p><p>Arthur laughed! “You sound like a serial killer, babe.”</p><p>Eames kissed Arthur’s shoulder blade and said, “Fuck off. These bones make you solid, make you real.”</p><p>“And if I had a frame crafted out of pipe cleaners, I’d get hurt more.”</p><p>Eames shushed him.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Fashion</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Arthur is still the best uncle, and someday I'll stitch together all these 'Arthur being the best uncle' drabbles into a series. But not today!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Eames smiled when he spotted Arthur coming in. He thought that many of the others were too frightened of Arthur’s reputation to say anything.</p><p>Cobb would because he’s a bit of an idiot, but he wasn’t there.</p><p>Arthur had gotten a makeover. Instead of his usual pristine and beautiful suit, Arthur was wearing the suit with what had to be half a dozen different accessories plus makeup.</p><p>“Did Cobb’s kids guilt you into dressing up like this?”</p><p>Arthur adjusted the scarf and fiddled with a bracelet. He’d left the lipstick on because Phillipa said it looked pretty.</p><p>“No comment, Eames.”</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. X</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I had way too much caffeine, so I'm posting this drabble just after midnight instead of in the morning or afternoon. I just want to give myself an excuse to sleep in a little bit.</p><p>I took "X" to mean "x marks the spot." Have some pirates and foul-mouthed parrots!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I can’t believe this,” Eames panted as he continued to dig.</p><p>Arthur snorted, but kept his eyes peeled and his gun drawn; he’d already had to shoot down four projections of pirates and was also attacked by a dreamed up parrot that spoke in curse words and bits of sea shanties.</p><p>“We’d already decided who would do the digging once we found the right spot. You lost the game of rock paper scissors, Eames, so just keep digging!”</p><p>“Aye aye,” Eames answered Arthur. He shoveled away the earth until he uncovered the treasure chest where they’d find the mark’s secrets!</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0024"><h2>24. War</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Arthur and Eames were splattered with paint, but they couldn’t stop laughing!</p><p>“This was the best birthday idea ever, Eames! Thank you so much for taking me paintballing!”</p><p>Eames stripped off his protective mask and goggles as they exited the field of play. “Anything for you, love. If you want to fight a war firing little gelatin capsules full of paint instead of deadly bullets, I’ll be your opponent anytime.”</p><p>“Let’s not go to war against each other, Mr. Eames,” Arthur said while doing the same with his gear. Then Arthur tugged on Eames’s jersey to give him a kiss.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0025"><h2>25. Danger Ahead</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I feel like garbage, but I need to keep up with the drabbles since everything still sucks.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Despite Cobb’s assurances that he’d done it before, Arthur was very worried about this whole inception thing.</p><p>He was more worried about how much Cobb was pinning his hopes on this one job for Saito managing to get him back to his kids. This could be dangerous. And it was insane!</p><p>Then Cobb mentioned that he was going to fetch Eames.</p><p>Arthur said what he should because that was his job (“Eames? No, he’s in Mombasa. It’s Cobol’s backyard.” or “There’s plenty of good thieves”), but he secretly felt reassured that this stupid plan might work if Eames was here.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0026"><h2>26. Queen</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Hey, do you want to have a proper celebration since we’ve just done the impossible?”</p><p>“That would be lovely,” Eames answered.</p><p>They stopped watching Cobb’s victorious passage through baggage claim.</p><p>-</p><p>The celebration began with alcohol and ended with them both singing songs by Queen in Arthur’s apartment. Because why the fuck not?</p><p>“We <em>are</em> the champions aren’t we, love?” Eames reflected while huddled close to Arthur on the couch he already believed he’d be sleeping on.</p><p>“Now, come on, champion!” Then Arthur took Eames’s hand and tugged him off the couch pulled him towards the bedroom. Eames followed, pleasantly surprised.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0027"><h2>27. Cut</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Here, let me see it,” Eames said as he touched the icepack Arthur pressed against his temple.</p><p>“I can handle it,” Arthur answered. “It was my own fault anyway.”</p><p>“It was an accident, a little fall. Remember, love,” Eames said. “We agreed that being in a relationship also means accepting each other’s help from time to time.”</p><p>Arthur grumbled about it, but removed the icepack wrapped in a towel and let Eames look at the cut.</p><p>“The ice cut down the swelling, and you’re not bleeding anymore,” Eames said, dropping a kiss against Arthur’s cheek. “Let’s bandage you up, love.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0028"><h2>28. Silence</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Go, gallant idiot Arthur! You go be the best uncle you can be!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“If you don’t shut up right now, I’ll strangle the motherfucking <em>life</em> out of you!” Arthur threatened in a whisper.</p><p>But Phillipa’s Tickle Me Elmo wouldn’t be quiet. It just kept laughing! Arthur shot a worried look over his shoulder, towards the still silent nursery. Eames was posted at the door. He gave Arthur a thumbs up, indicating that Phillipa was still sleeping even though her favorite stuffed toy was malfunctioning.</p><p>Arthur began to search for the batteries since his threats weren’t working.</p><p>“Don’t mess with me, Elmo,” Arthur muttered darkly. “I’m the best uncle!”</p><p>“He really is,” Eames agreed.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0029"><h2>29. Storm</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Arthur had grabbed a newspaper just before the rain started, and he had been using it to cover his head as he ran. Eames could have used his coat to shield himself from the rain, but he let it soak his hair because he hadn’t wanted to let go of Arthur’s hand.</p><p>They raced together through the storm to huddle beneath the awning of a shop.</p><p>“Well, the newspaper is mush,” Arthur said before throwing it away. He touched his hair and frowned. “My gel is already starting to soften, so get ready for devious curls.”</p><p>“My favorite,” Eames said.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0030"><h2>30. Cursed</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I refuse to believe it,” Eames said as he walked with Arthur.</p><p>A flowerpot fell from someone’s window. Arthur shoved Eames out of the way, so that it smashed on the ground, not Eames’s head!</p><p>“That’s the third time something weird has happened, Eames!” Arthur said, hurrying to be by Eames’s side, watching for hazards as they reached the corner. The traffic light was green, so they prepared to cross.</p><p>“A series of coincidences doesn’t mean—”</p><p>“CAR!” Arthur yelled as he tugged Eames back, narrowly avoiding another accident.</p><p>Both men watched as the car raced away, its taillights glowing red.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0031"><h2>31. Skeleton</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I know I’ve been dieting, but this seems to have gone too far.”</p><p>Arthur ignored Eames and his newest forgery.</p><p>“You don’t agree, darling?” Eames said. His forgery of a skeleton was quite impressive, Arthur could admit that, but damn it, he wasn’t going to laugh at Eames’s awful jokes!</p><p>“I know you don’t think I’m funny,” Eames the skeleton was saying. “I also know you don’t think I’m cool. That I don’t have a hip bone in my body! Eh?” Eames nudged Arthur in the side.</p><p>Arthur rolled his eyes and sighed. “Okay, fine! Yes, it’s kind of funny!”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0032"><h2>32. Sons</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Cobb was leaning against Arthur, forcing the man to take his weight and listen to him prattle. Cobb was looking through the window of the hospital nursery.</p><p>“I’m just really shocked that the ultrasound was wrong.”</p><p>“You and Mal have a beautiful, healthy daughter! You can try to have sons later. I promise I’ll be around to help, so just relax.”</p><p>Cobb looked up at Arthur, and then gave him a proper hug. “You really are going to be the best uncle, aren’t you?”</p><p>Arthur nodded and disentangled himself from the new father, pulling out his phone to text Eames.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0033"><h2>33. Biohazard</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Happy Valentine's Day!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It had been a week, maybe two, since they’d done it. But how many excuses could they make if they were stuck inside all day because of the pandemic?</p><p>“Okay, whoever wins the next round of rock paper scissors doesn’t have to do it.”</p><p>Eames nodded, agreeing with Arthur’s proposal.</p><p>And then he lost.</p><p>“Once more, love?”</p><p>And he lost again.</p><p>“Third time’s the charm? Please?”</p><p>He lost for the third and final time.</p><p>Arthur handed over the bucket, the rubber gloves, and household cleaners. “You’ll clean out the fridge and the kitchen.”</p><p>Eames nodded sadly. “Pray for me, darling.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0034"><h2>34. Gamble</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They were running from projections and cursing as they went!</p><p>“Darling, you said that we wouldn’t run into more of them!”</p><p>“I said there was a chance. It was a slim chance, but still a chance!”</p><p>They shouldn’t have been talking at all considering they’d need the air wasted on speaking for more running, but some habits die hard. Like their habit to banter.</p><p>“This might put me off gambling, Arthur,” Eames panted.</p><p>“Don’t you lie,” Arthur muttered, tugging on Eames’s elbow and working some dreamshare architecture magic to make another route, another way out and away from their pursuers.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0035"><h2>35. Stress</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Arthur was certain that no one was there, he pushed his laptop away and folded his forearms on his desk so he wouldn’t get a post-it note or something stuck to his forehead when he put his head down.</p><p>Arthur took several deep breaths and tried to work through the latest difficulty related to the job. Then he froze when he heard a familiar voice.</p><p>“Not doing well, Arthur?”</p><p>Arthur was about to sit back up, but Eames gently placed his hand against the nape of Arthur’s neck.</p><p>“Hey, it’s fine...”</p><p>“Everything sucks, Eames,” Arthur said, his voice muffled.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0036"><h2>36. Precious</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Eames was trying not to smile, but still found the corners of his lips twitching against the urge.</p><p>Arthur was smoothing out the corner of what appeared to be a child’s drawing.</p><p>“Did you steal some child’s artwork? Like, right off their fridge?”</p><p>Arthur glanced at Eames, and then looked around to make sure none of their other, newer teammates were paying attention to them.</p><p>“Look, I might have mentioned starting a new job in front of Cobb’s kids, so they decided to make me a picture for good luck. You can say this is stupid-”</p><p>“It’s too precious, darling.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0037"><h2>37. Movie</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was date night again, so it was Arthur’s turn to pick! It was their habit to go to awful yet still popular crime or action movies.</p><p>Eames followed after Arthur, holding the bucket of popcorn and Arthur’s Junior Mints along with their drinks in a cardboard tray. Arthur was scouting ahead to find their seats in the back; they were perfect for Arthur and Eames as they liked to quietly whisper about inaccuracies or plot holes to each other as they passed the popcorn.</p><p>“I live for your blistering commentary, Arthur,” Eames said softly as they sat down together.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0038"><h2>38. Holiday</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Eames was leading Arthur out of the house, continuing to remind the man of the wonderful time they were going to have.</p><p>“All the bags are packed, the plane tickets are in my pocket, and everything will be fine, darling.”</p><p>Arthur frowned and looked over his shoulder at Eames. “Are you sure? Like are you absolutely certain we aren’t forgetting anything?”</p><p>Eames rolled his eyes. “We have no jobs scheduled. Everything is set so we have plenty of time to enjoy ourselves, Arthur.”</p><p>The tension left Arthur’s shoulders and he nodded. “That’s right. It’s a holiday. We’re going to relax.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0039"><h2>39. Man</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They weren’t sure what to do next.</p><p>“We’re married.” Arthur looked down at the wedding band he’d take off during jobs and hide somewhere because it was precious. “How is this tradition supposed to go since neither of us is the bride?”</p><p>Arthur opened the door as if that would make the answer clearer. It really didn’t.</p><p>And then Eames smiled widely and reached for Arthur’s hand. Arthur smiled back, full of mischief.</p><p>“Fuck those customs,” Arthur said as they crossed the threshold together.</p><p>“Fuck gender norms and stereotypes, too.” Eames leaned in to give his husband a proper kiss.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0040"><h2>40. Light</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I swear, this is my last one,” Eames was saying as he failed to get the lighter to work, his cigarette still unlit.</p><p>“Give that to me,” Arthur said. With a practiced flick he managed to get the thing to ignite. Arthur extended the little flame towards Eames, his eyebrow raised.</p><p>“You’re a grown man, you don’t need to ask my permission to smoke,” Arthur added as he leaned up against the wall near Eames.</p><p>“Emphysema isn’t sexy, that’s what you said before,” Eames said after taking a drag and passing it to Arthur.</p><p>“So we’ll both start again tomorrow.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0041"><h2>41. Hunger</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Arthur heard a thump. He didn’t hear anyone saying <em>Oh no, dying </em>or <em>I’ve been hit!</em> Arthur closed his laptop and looked in the direction the thump had come from.</p><p>What he saw was Eames with his forehead on his own desk, not doing anything forgery related. If it <em>was</em> forgery related it wasn’t obvious to Arthur.</p><p>“What’s up with you?” Arthur asked. Eames lifted his head in response to Arthur’s voice, turning to look at Arthur, much like a flower would turn towards the sun.</p><p>“I missed lunch, darling.”</p><p>Arthur tossed Eames a granola bar.</p><p>“You’re a saint, Arthur!”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0042"><h2>42. Lace</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They were finishing up their chores and needed to throw stuff out. But before they could get outside, Eames stopped Arthur in his tracks. Arthur waited and readjusting his grip on the box he carried.</p><p>“I’ll have you fixed up in moment,” Eames was saying as he knelt down before Arthur and began to retie his shoe for him.</p><p>“You know, I could have done that myself,” Arthur said when Eames was finished and standing at his side once again.</p><p>“You’ve been tidying everything up and chose the heaviest box. At least let me help you tie your shoes, love.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0043"><h2>43. Web</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>We could sort of consider this drabble a continuation of Day 2. Courage</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Eames couldn’t free himself from the giant web. Did this mark have a fascination with bugs? Why did they have a fascination with bugs? None of Arthur’s research indicated this!</p><p>He was trying to remain still and not alert the giant spider who spun the web. Eames swallowed hard and tried to not think of escape or getting bitten by the spider.</p><p>He wasn’t thinking of venom or being wrapped up and saved as a snack for later when he heard a voice.</p><p>“Shh,” Arthur softly said, carefully working to cut tendrils of spider silk and free Eames. “You’re okay...”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0044"><h2>44. Pessimistic</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I’m going to hate it!” James Cobb cried. He’d already pushed away Dom’s hug, and now Dom didn’t know what to do. Yes, he’d been back for almost a month now and things were usually great, but James just happened to get upset over today’s school field trip when Arthur and Eames came to visit.</p><p>“Ouch,” Eames said. “That wasn’t fun for you, was it?”</p><p>“I swear he gets that from Arthur,” Cobb said.</p><p>“I’m not his father or blood relative,” Arthur reminded him.</p><p>Eames reassured them both. “I’ll chat with him. He’ll love the museum once we’re done, promise!”</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0045"><h2>45. Videogame</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Arthur’s pandemic coping method involved his favorite videogames. Eames’s pandemic coping method involved sitting next to Arthur while he played.</p><p>Eames heard a sniffle and instead of commenting on it he offered a box of tissues to Arthur.</p><p>Arthur set down the controller so he could take some tissues from the box. He continued to watch as the dramatic scene played on the television screen.</p><p>“It doesn’t matter how many times I play this game, the ending gets me every time.”</p><p>“Which one will you play after this, darling?”</p><p>“Final Fantasy X is the next one. You’ll love the music!”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0046"><h2>46. Dirt</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>You guys, take this any way you want but when I was writing this last minute drabble I wasn't trying to make it look like Eames was actually turned on by Arthur listing chores.</p><p>I just wanted something funny because my day has sucked!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Say something dirty to me, love,” Eames purred.</p><p>“Unwashed laundry,” Arthur dryly answered. “The sink full of dirty dishes. The kitchen floor that needs to be swept and mopped.”</p><p>Eames was only slightly disappointed by what Arthur said.</p><p>“That wasn’t really what I had in mind, but it’s my own fault for not specifying.” Eames smirked. “What else?”</p><p>Arthur began to smile while reaching for Eames.</p><p>“Dust bunnies on the carpet. Melted ice cream on the couch.”</p><p>“Yeah?” Eames eagerly replied. “How is it possible that you’re making talking about chores sexy?”</p><p>“You’re just very weird, Eames,” Arthur fondly said.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0047"><h2>47. Dragon</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Crap!” Cobb shouted while pointing at the dragon! “It’s got Arthur!”</p><p>Sure, the Middle Ages fairy tale setting sounded like an excellent idea. And it was totally working with the mark just fine until that dragon swooped down and plucked up Eames’s darling.</p><p>“What are you doing?!” Cobb yelled as Eames pulled out a grenade launcher.</p><p>“Isn’t it obvious?” Eames took aim at the monster which still had Arthur in its claws and didn’t seem to care that Arthur was stabbing it repeatedly with the most furious look on his face. “I’m getting Arthur away from that thing!”</p><p>Eames fired!</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0048"><h2>48. Message</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>I just wanted to tell you that I miss you very much.</em>
</p><p>Eames paused and then deleted that from his email to Arthur.</p><p>They wouldn’t likely see each other until both of their jobs were finished. If he wanted to, Eames could boo the fact that Arthur’s job didn’t require a forger, or how Eames’s own job already had a point man.</p><p>He was decent point, actually, but when Eames casually used the word ‘specificity’ in his presence, he didn’t know what Eames was talking about.</p><p>Eames was offended on Arthur’s behalf.</p><p>
  <em>I miss you, darling. Our point man sucks.</em>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0049"><h2>49. Circle</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Arthur was still rereading Eames’s brief email. It was a sentence, so Arthur shouldn’t have to give it that much attention. Yet he was still looking at it, considering what to say in reply.</p><p>But Arthur worried that his reply was going to be a bit much. Why didn’t the forger just text? The character restrictions would be a blessing for Arthur!</p><p>Arthur’s thoughts began to circle so it wasn’t long till Arthur was back to where he started.</p><p>Shouldn’t he reply?</p><p>Finally Arthur decided. Yes, he would reply! Arthur began typing.</p><p>
  <em>That’s a shame. I miss you too, Eames. </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0050"><h2>50. Skull</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm sorry I'm posting this later than usual. Today was especially busy between bills and grocery shopping.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Arthur’s head was heavy, and it hurt, so he just kept resting it against Eames’s shoulder as the forger helped him out of the car.</p><p>Arthur could guess what happened, but he confirmed with Eames as they shuffled towards the door.</p><p>“I hit my head, right?”</p><p>“You’re lucky to have escaped with only a concussion. I’m happy your skull is so thick that it didn’t even fracture.”</p><p>Of course, the job!</p><p>Arthur grimaced, looking down at his wrist where the hospital bracelet was.</p><p>“The idiot with the gun cracked my head on the pavement...”</p><p>“You’ll feel better soon,” Eames consoled.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0051"><h2>51. Rot</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I couldn't sleep. I decided I'd get today's drabble out of the way if I was still up.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“This dreamer has hidden away another crate of rotten apples!”</p><p>The sentence was followed by the noise of Eames dropping the crate in front of the open safe.</p><p>Arthur began to inspect the crate, much like he inspected the other three they discovered, but only found more of the same; it was just decaying fruit. He dreamt up a damp towel so he could try and clean off his hands.</p><p>“Okay, Mr. Eames. Why is this significant?”</p><p>It didn’t really match up with anything related to the mark or the job they were hired for.</p><p>It was just very odd.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0052"><h2>52. Woman</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The test run of the Somnacin would have gone fine if it wasn’t for the projections all looking and acting like Arthur’s mother.</p><p>Eames was also there to witness the sight. “I have no idea what to say.”</p><p>“I guess we should talk about this,” Arthur muttered after they had gotten to a safer spot that was free of Arthur’s mother projections.</p><p>“She looks like a lovely and caring woman,” Eames commented. “Is this because of that call you got earlier?”</p><p>“My mom wants us to come to dinner.”</p><p>“I’ll be very charming, darling. I promise you.”</p><p>Arthur only sighed.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0053"><h2>53. Fantasy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I’m going to kill him,” Arthur stated.</p><p>Eames was trying to distract Arthur by rubbing the man’s shoulders.</p><p>“No, that’s not the type of fantasy you should be thinking about right now, darling.”</p><p>“It will involve <em>fire</em>,” Arthur said coldly even though he leaned back into Eames’s attempt to soothe him.</p><p>Eames, thinking that his efforts were working, kissed the side of Arthur’s neck. “He’s just Cobb. I think sometimes he just assumes you’ll do everything he suggests for a job.”</p><p>“That suggestion is going to extend the job for a full day, Eames!”</p><p>Eames hugged Arthur. “Think happy thoughts.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0054"><h2>54. Night</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Arthur woke from a deep sleep, still warm and comfortable. Eames was pressed against Arthur’s back, breathing deeply, still asleep.</p><p>Arthur blinked at his alarm clock, noticing that it was 1 a.m. It was still night in Arthur’s opinion, even if it was theoretically the morning now.</p><p>It was still dark, if that mattered. No reason for Arthur to wake up now or to get out of bed.</p><p>Eames moved slightly, pressing his hand against Arthur’s chest and hugging him closer.</p><p>It was comfortable beneath the blankets. Arthur just relaxed and eventually fell back asleep with Eames so close.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0055"><h2>55. Moon</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The porch swing gave them the best view. They got to enjoy it huddled close together in private. No one needed to know that the best forger and best point man had become the best couple too.</p><p>The full moon looked huge. Eames was certain that if Arthur was given the chance he would explain why.</p><p>“It’s called the moon illusion,” Arthur said. “The moon looks bigger when it rises and is still close to the horizon. Our eyes are tricked into thinking it’s that much bigger because of things like trees and buildings...”</p><p>“Know-it-all,” Eames commented fondly.</p><p>“Shut up.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0056"><h2>56. Fruit</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Arthur and Eames were eating lunch together at work and both had happened to include fresh fruit.</p><p>“I will trade you a slice of apple for one strawberry.”</p><p>Eames smiled at Arthur. “What if I said that I would like two slices of apple?”</p><p>Arthur rolled his eyes. “Sure, but I’d like a larger strawberry.”</p><p>“Done!” Eames said and then nudged his strawberries towards Arthur.</p><p>They made the exchange. Arthur even let Eames take some of the peanut butter he’d been dipping the apple slices into.</p><p>“Tomorrow I’m bringing grapes,” Arthur commented.</p><p>Eames smiled again. “Then I’ll bring oranges, darling!”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0057"><h2>57. Cute</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Today's prompt was actually "cut" and then I remembered that I'd already done that, so there must have been a repeat on my old prompt list. So instead of skipping it I added an e. Please enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You’re looking cute today, Arthur.”</p><p>Arthur laughed. He just couldn’t help it! He turned to look at Eames, ready to argue the point.</p><p>“What the hell is so cute about me, Eames?”</p><p>“Well...” Eames said as he came closer. “While you pull off terrifyingly handsome every day sometimes those dimples peek out and remind me that you’re also <em>cute</em>.”</p><p>“Take it back,” Arthur growled.</p><p>“Cute as a button,” Eames answered while taking a step back.</p><p>“I’m not afraid to use violence!”</p><p>“As cute as a basket full of kittens!”</p><p>Then Eames took off!</p><p>Arthur chased after him. “I’m not cute!”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0058"><h2>58. Stamp</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“There is something you don’t know about me...”</p><p>They stood before Arthur’s bedroom door, the one room Eames had yet to see. The fact he’d finally gained access to this inner sanctum of inner sanctums meant something.</p><p>Arthur was ready to reveal something private to him, Eames could tell!</p><p>What could it be?</p><p>Was it dangerous? Was it sexy? Was it dangerously sexy?</p><p>Eames followed Arthur through the door, ready to see Arthur’s secret.</p><p>Arthur handed an open book to Eames, who took it carefully and began to examine the pages.</p><p>“I collect stamps, Eames. My hobby is collecting stamps.”</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0059"><h2>59. Through the Fire</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Arthur pulled Eames aside once they’d detached from the PASIV, then ignored Cobb’s curious look.</p><p>“Not the broom closet,” Eames complained while shifting a mop and bucket out of the way with his shoe.</p><p>“You promised that you were never going to play that song in front of Cobb or anyone else on our teams.”</p><p>“But it’s such a good song, darling! You sing it so well, too!”</p><p>Arthur’s eyes narrowed. “I was very drunk and there was a karaoke machine.”</p><p>“And you dedicated it to me. “Through the Fire” by Chaka Khan is our song now, please accept it!”</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0060"><h2>60. Need</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello everyone! I present to you the final drabble. </p><p>I initially started writing these in January because one of my friends had gotten coronavirus, and shortly after that my other friend, who is his fiance, caught it too. </p><p>Thankfully both are feeling much better now!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They didn’t often take jobs separately, not anymore at least. When it did happen, they not-so-secretly pined while waiting.</p><p>Arthur had finally come back and was dragging in his luggage, looking exhausted.</p><p>Eames almost raced to the door in order to greet Arthur and pull him into a hug.</p><p>“I could have picked you up from the airport, you maniac,” Eames said fondly. He hadn’t stopped hugging Arthur, and the point man didn’t seem to mind.</p><p>Arthur only rested his head against Eames’s shoulder. “I just wanted to get here fast.”</p><p>Arthur’s <em>I missed you</em> didn’t need to be spoken.</p><p> </p>
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